


Do You Know This Man?

by winstiel_28



Series: Angsty One Shots [1]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Car Accident, Childhood, Cliffhanger, Confessions, Crying, Crying Dean, Death, Dying Dean, Emotional Hurt, Flirting, Gas Station, Heavy Angst, I'm Sorry, M/M, Made myself cry, Memories, Modern AU, Not A Fix-It, One Shot, Protective Sean Winchester, Relationship Problems, Sad Dean Winchester, Sad Ending, Safe Reading, Sam is a dick, Troubled Relationship, angst and hurt, car crash, trigger warning, troubled childhood, upset
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-28
Updated: 2014-09-28
Packaged: 2018-02-19 03:19:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2372588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winstiel_28/pseuds/winstiel_28
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>'A man driving the 1967 model of the Chevy Impala was found dead last Monday evening, possibly dangerous with many weapons in his vehicle. Can you identify this man?'<i></i></i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do You Know This Man?

****Dean pulled into a small space between a red and white tiled diner and a gas station, pulled the keys out of the ignition, and glanced at his watch.

Getting out of the Impala and sliding the keys into his pocket, Dean cleared his throat and ran a hand across his cropped brown hair.

"A black coffee and a bagel please, darlin'." Dean used his Winchester charm on the blonde woman with the curly hair, who giggled a little bit, her cheeks blushing all red and rosy.

"Comin' right up," she replied, turning around and opening a small container that held all types of bread. She'd taken out a bagel and buttered it, walked over to the coffee machine, and squeezed out some of the dark liquid.

He'd paid her the one dollar fifty he'd been charged and took his dinner over to a small booth in the far left corner.

Putting down his coffee and his bagel, Dean slid across the red bench and placed himself by the window. He stared out into the darkness; the only light source he could see was that of the white lights of the many cars.

Taking the white cardboard cup full of the warm liquid, Dean held it in his hands and shivered lightly. His drive had been long, tedious, and lonely. He'd listened to his music and sung along for a while, creating a nice mood, but then he'd realised how shitty it was travelling alone and that happiness had sort of seeped out the sides of his happy little bubble.

Taking the bagel, Dean took a large bite and chewed heartily, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and glancing around the almost-empty diner that was playing the worst music imaginable.

Dean pulled his cell phone out of his pocket and unlocked it, he checked his messages, he checked his emails and he checked anything that might signify his brother had tried to contact. It was the same as it had been a few hours before, absolutely no fucking use.

"Dang it, _Sam_." He'd muttered under his breath, swallowing a mouthful of doughy goodness and rolling his grass-green eyes.

He checked his watch one more time.

Diner after diner, gas station after gas station, highway after highway; Dean was lonelier than ever. When Sam had finally decided to go, finally decided that enough was enough and that he wanted nothing more to do with Dean and everything that they'd been through together, he hadn't even left a _note,_ not even a few words scribbled down on a scrap piece of paper.

That's what had hit home more than anything. The fact that, even after everything the two brothers had been through together, everything they had seen, Sam would just leave as though that was a reasonable thing to do. And then he had told him to delete his number, told Dean that it didn't matter anymore.

Sam Winchester had told the only person he had ever trusted to wipe him out of his life, just like that. Dean shook his head and downed the rest of his coffee, it burned in his throat and he wished that he had been drinking something stronger, whiskey sounded good.

Picking up the paper cup and placing the plate with the bagel crumbs scattered around the patterned surface on the countertop, Dean cut through a little exit and entered the men's room.

Swinging the door open, Dean was happy enough to find the room empty. It was awkward enough to go the bathroom with people there, but Dean wasn't really in any sort of mood for human interaction.

He pulled the zipper on his jeans and began to relieve himself, staring at the dirty tiles that stared back at him, his reflection almost noticeable but slightly distorted.

The door that he had recently just opened began to swing on its hinges again, Dean knew how awkward it was to stare at people when he was standing there with his _dick_ out, so he stared back at the dirty wall.

A man with heavy feet that dragged across the bathroom floor came and stood three urinals away from Dean Winchester and began to whistle lightly under his breath, probably trying to prevent as much awkwardness as possible.

Dean finished his business quickly and zipped up his trousers again, spinning around on his feet and heading towards the door.

Walking fast until he noticed something.

Noticed who was taking a leak beside him, noticed someone who'd been standing there for over a minute and hadn't even realised that his older brother was right next to him.

" _Sam_?" Dean spoke with a low and gruff voice, making sure that if this man wasn't his brother then he wasn't going to think he was trying it on with him or something.

The man's whistling stopped instantly. Like Dean's words were an off-switch to his tune.

The man didn't speak. And then slowly, very slowly, he turned his head and Dean's words caught in his throat.

" _Dean_?" Sam's voice didn't sound particularly sad, more confused than anything. His brother pulled his red and white plaid shirt down a little and adjusted his collar, staring anxiously at his older brother who was standing so still, his eyes glistening with tears.

"Sammy." Dean's tears suddenly spilled from his green eyes and planted themselves on his cheeks, but instead of frowning, his features twisted into a soft smile thar formed dimples along the lines of his freckly face.

Moving forwards, his hands awkwardly placed at his sides, Dean chuckled lightly under his breath as though something magical had just happened and wrapped his younger brother into a long hug.

Feeling suddenly strange that his younger brother, someone he'd protected for so long and cared for, was suddenly so much bigger, so much taller than he has remembered, it made Dean want to cry even more.

"I was so _sad_ when you went." He admitted, mid-cry.

"Yeah, Dean." Sam sounded exasperated, Dean felt his brother's body feel rigid and out of place beneath his arms.

"Have you thought over what happened?" Dean pulled away and wiped his eyes with the back of his right hand, waiting for his Sammy to reply.

"I thought about it a lot." Sam sighed heavily and walked towards the bathroom door, seemingly not wanting to have this sort of conversation in a fucking toilet.

 

The night air seemed colder than it had done half an hour before when Dean had climbed out of his car and decided to go and have dinner in the small diner next to the gas station.

"I _like_ how it is now." Sam sounded as though he was trying to tell a kid that they couldn't have what they wanted for Christmas; and for Dean, he imagined that was kind of how it felt when Sam told him that.

"What do you mean?" Dean paused and re-thought his words: "So you're saying that you liked it better without me nearby? Is that what you meant? Because I'll have you know Sammy, that these past two years have been the worst two years of my life. They've been fucking _terrible_."

And Sam could see the frantic look mixed with a sudden despair in his older brother's features but, there was something deep down inside the younger winchester that wanted to stay away from his overly protective brother.

"I'm sorry Dean." But Dean could tell that Sam wasn't remotely sorry, Sam simply didn't care anymore. He'd given up on the one person who had believed in him since day one, and that was pretty fucking selfish.

"You wanna know what?" Dean's voice had gotten a little louder and he knew that people were probably looking, Sam was pulling that face that he'd always pulled when something wasn't going his way, sticking his head up slightly, his arms tightly crossed across his chest.

"I've always done everything for you Sammy, and you don't even really care, do you? You really couldn't care that I've been balancing hunting and trying to find you again for two years and that's been fucking hard, but you don't care, do you?" Sam dropped his arms to his side and breathed in deeply, he tucked a few loose strands of chestnut coloured hair behind his ear and shook his head slightly.

" _Goodbye_ , Dean." He couldn't think of anything else to say.

"Yeah, you wanna know what? This is purgatory all over again, Sam. I came looking for you, I came looking to find you, and you did nothing, you carried on. And it does hurt Sam, I know you think it doesn't but it does, it hurts more than anything." And Dean turned, knowing that if he didn't, he'd want to try and change his brother's mind.

But Sam was stubborn and nothing would change his mind when he had decided something.

 

Dean took his keys out of his pocket and blinked away the tears stinging his eyes, he couldn't believe what had happened. He'd thought he'd found his brother again, thought he'd found the one person he couldn't live without. And really, he had, but Sam just didn't want to know him anymore.

Dean slid a Led Zeppelin tape into the player, the usual guitar riff sounded and he calmed down slightly, music always made him feel a little better, it was something for him to use to forget shit for a while.

 

The highway stretched out in front of the oldest Winchester son, he glanced down at the small atlas on the seat beside him and squinted at the coloured lines, he wasn't too sure where he was heading, but was happy that it was just a straight forward long road until the motel he had chosen to stay in.

After diving for around ten minutes, the music started to fade away the happiness again and Dean couldn't cope with how sad he was. The tears that had been forced back where slowly starting to trickle out of their ducts and soak his cheeks, biting down on the inside of his mouth, Dean could taste blood as his teeth clamped down against the soft skin.

Rain began to patter down heavily on the glass sheet that Dean stared out ahead of him, turning on the wipers, Dean sat forward in his seat, the rain was getting pretty bad and the damn tears were making it hard to see properly.

"God, Sammy." He muttered to himself, his voice breaking slightly "If you could see what you're doin' to me."

 

And that was when the left side tyre skidded across a large puddle on the dipping corners of the never ending highway, and Dean, in his 1967 Chevy Impala swerved across the road and broke through the metal barriers.

Clutching the steering wheel with white knuckles, Dean tried his hardest to steer the car back round, did all he could to prevent his fate. But no, it didn't work. Smashing against tree after tree, thick branches protruding the glass casing of the windows, slicing into Dean's skin, the small forest he had found himself in slowly started to thin out and it became worse.

Dean didn't think it could get any worse, he'd smashed his head up pretty badly and he knew that soon enough he was going to be unconscious, he had no idea what would happen next.

Tears were splattering against the leather interior as the back tyres blew, the car turned in a sharp right angle and tottered on the edge of a stony cliff. Turning around slowly, so very, very slowly.

Dean glanced out of the back window, he was fucked. Well and truly fucked. He didn't dare look down, he knew that if he looked down, he'd see the remains of what used to be his right leg, and he couldn't cope with the searing pain in his leg as well as the pain running through his head and his heart.

And that was when the car, along with the Winchester inside of it, gave up. And the shiny black car that had had so much care, so much love, smashed against rocks, crooks and thundered against the stony ground that lay beside a running river, peaceful and quiet.

 

 **A** **WEEK LATER**

 

Sam slid his motel room key into the holder and opened the wooden door, he threw down his satchel with his books and guns inside on the double bed and sat down at a small table, pulling his laptop out from his bag.

He was glad that the case he was on was finished, those shifters had proved hard to kill, but as always, he'd finished the job well.

Switching on his device, Sam got himself a glass of water and sat down to find another case to work on. He looked up everything he could, usually websites related to newspapers, local radio stations, that sort of thing.

And on that sunny day, with the motel windows flung wide open, the wind slowly curling its way around the objects of the room, Sam looked at the latest stories.

There was the usual, old people passing away, a local fair and things that really meant nothing to Sam, but then he came across something else.

' _DO YOU KNOW THIS MAN?_ '

Intrigued, Sam dragged the mouse across the page and clicked on the link, this sounded strange enough.

' _Can you identify this man? Mid thirties, dark brown hair, green eyes'_ The next words made Sam whimper aloud.

_'Driving a 1967 model of the Chevy Impala was found dead last Monday evening, possibly dangerous, many weapons in his vehicle. Can you identify this man?'_


End file.
